


I Want to Break Free

by aibidil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Bird Conservation, Embarrassment, Established Relationship, Fake Marriage, Family, Family Dynamics, Getting Arrested, Growing Up, HP: Epilogue Compliant, Harry Potter Next Generation, Humor, Jail, Kissing, M/M, Minor Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Muggle London, Oral Sex, Police, Public Nudity, gap year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 10:29:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13949685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aibidil/pseuds/aibidil
Summary: Albus and Scorpius are done with Hogwarts. Albus and Scorpius are adults. Albus and Scorpius are charged with the crime of outrage against public decency and behaviour that is likely to cause harassment, alarm, or distress to others.





	I Want to Break Free

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LLAP115](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LLAP115/gifts).



> Tami, I hope you enjoy this Scorbus romp. Please feel free to read the title in Freddie Mercury’s voice. Big thanks to frnklymrshnkly for the beta and to Charlotte for British police info.

“Do we get a phone call?” Scorpius asks the police officer.

Scorpius Malfoy and Albus Potter look at each other with apprehension. No self-respecting eighteen-year-old who just left school wants to call someone to inform that they’re in police custody. What’s worse is that they’re wizards—relatively _famous_ wizards—who have no Muggle identities and are at risk of breaking the Statute of Secrecy. And they have no clothes.

It’s looking more and more like they’ll be on the front page of the _Prophet_ tomorrow.

It’s clear that they need to use one of these phone things to call a magical person to come and deal with this Muggle-magical _incident._ What’s not clear is who they should call, or whether they’ll be allowed to use the phone. But maybe if they call someone discreet, no one else will have to know. Maybe their parents will never find out.

“You have the right to not be held incommunicado,” the police officer confirms.

“So I can make a phone call?” Scorpius clarifies.

“You may each make a phone call to inform someone where you are.”

“Mister—sir—mister policeman sir,” Scorpius says, and the plump, balding officer raises a thick, judgmental eyebrow. Crap, did Scorpius use the wrong word? He’s almost certain he remembers these words properly from Muggle Studies. “We’re married, so we’ll just, er, need one phone call.”

“You’re... _married_?” the officer asks, looking supremely sceptical.

Scorpius stands taller. They _are_ of age—honestly. He throws his arm around Albus’s shoulders. “Yes.”

The officer pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, as if picking up two naked teens in the shadow of the London Eye is the worst thing that’s happened to him all week. Come to think of it, maybe it isthe worst thing that’s happened to this man all week. Apparently Muggle police officers don’t carry around extra sets of clothes for the contingency of nude perpetrators. The officer had had what seemed to be a moment of profound conflict when he had to decide whether to give them his jacket to cover up, and, if so, whether it would go under their bums to protect his car or over their laps to protect his eyes.

“I am leaving you in this holding cell while I go find some clothes for you,” the officer says, murmuring under his breath about the paperwork associated with providing replacement clothing. “It’s been a busy day, all the other cells are occupied, and I’m not throwing one of you—naked—in with another detainee. When I get back I will bring you to the phone. You lovebirds better tell whoever you call to bring your IDs.”

The door to the cell shuts with a decisive click, and Scorpius squeezes Albus’s shoulder (more to calm himself than Albus).

Albus whips around. He’s holding the emergency blanket they’d been given before being let out of the car tightly around his naked shoulders. (The blankets are thin and shiny and crinkly and _what_ are these Muggles thinking?)

“We’re _married?_ ” Albus hisses.

“Welllll,” Scorpius stammers, wondering now as he’s trying to explain it why it seemed like a good idea at the time, “I didn’t want to have to call two people! You think this will go well if we get both our dads in here? It would escalate into an international incident! We need to call someone who will handle this quietly and discreetly.”

Albus takes a deep breath, then leans forward and wraps Scorpius in a hug, which is difficult to do without dropping the odd blankets. “We could’ve just said that one of us didn’t want a phone call. But alright,” Albus says, and Scorpius can feel his anxiety start to ease with the pressure of Albus’s arms. “Alright. We need a Slytherin. Whomever we call is going to need to bring an Oblivate-certified Auror with them, and a Slytherin is our best chance to keep this quiet.”

“Okaaaaay,” Scorpius says, “but not my dad.”

“Well, Scorp, he _is_ the obvious choice.”

“Would you want _your_ dad to rescue us while we’re naked in a holding cell?!” Scorpius squeaks.

“No way!” Albus huffs. “Okay, let’s think rationally. We’re not calling our parents. What about one of my aunts or uncles?”

“Maybe,” Scorpius says, “but who? Percy would probably agree to keep it quiet.”

“Are you _insane?_ ” Albus hisses. “And get lectured about responsible behaviour and community morals for the next twelve decades of my life? I don’t think so.”

“Uncle George would probably not judge us for it,” Scorpius points out.

“But he’d take the piss so badly!”

There is a noise as the door is unlocked, and Scorpius can feel his heart start to beat faster. “Who then? Who?”

Albus gives him a desperate look. “Uncle Ron?”

“Um, okay. Ron. Ron it is. Ron Weasley is going to come save us from Muggle police detention.” Scorpius starts to laugh nervously, and Albus raises his eyebrows warningly.

Scorpius does everything he can to rein in his nervous tittering, but not enough, apparently—their officer friend enters the cell and doesn’t seem to find the situation at all amusing. “Listen here, son,” he says, and oh Merlin, that just makes Scorpius snicker louder. “Listen here. This isn’t a laughing matter. If you can’t take this seriously—”

“Don’t mind my husband,” Albus says smoothly. “He has a documented mental health condition that causes inappropriate laughter. It would be discriminatory for you to hold it against him.”

The officer’s face turns pale. “Of—of course. Of course. Put these on.” He shoves some jumpsuits at them.

When the officer turns his back, Scorpius flashes Albus a huge grin. Albus is so impressive. “I love you,” Scorpius mouths.

Albus rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “I love you, too,” he mouths back.

*

Two weeks ago the owls had started—while they were trying to revise for N.E.W.T.s, for Merlin’s sake! First it was Scorpius’s father asking if Scorpius and Albus would like to go out to a celebratory dinner after they arrived home at King’s Cross.

Then it was Harry and Ginny asking if Albus and Scorpius would prefer a quiet dinner at their home, or a large gathering celebrating with Rose and the rest of the cousins at the Burrow.

Then Teddy and James sent an owl with veiled threats about how Albus had to come celebrate because otherwise Teddy and James wouldn’t hear the end of it, and they didn’t want to be held responsible for Albus’s absence, thank you very much.

Then Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arthur wrote asking Scorpius’s favourite flavour of cake.

Then Grandmother Narcissa wrote inquiring whether Albus preferred chocolates filled with a creamy champagne filling or the kind with raspberry cordial.

Albus’s face had been sullen, and Scorpius _hated_ seeing that look on Albus’s face. They were going on a gap year! They had a Portkey to Portugal scheduled for the morning after they finished Hogwarts! They had plans! They were going to visit Canada and California and, if they felt brave, New York City! They were going to decide what to do next and get their parents to chip in Galleons to buy a flat and Scorpius was finally going to get Albus hooked on yoga!

“Al,” Scorpius had whispered one night in their bed (two four-posters pushed together making an eight-poster with a magically bridged dip in the middle) in the seventh-year Slytherin dorm, “Albus.”

“Hmmmm,” Albus had responded, pulling Scorpius closer and pressing a kiss to his neck.

“What if we told our parents that the Portkey is at like, 5 o’clock, right after the train gets to London?”

“And then what?”

Scorpius had shrugged, pressing backwards against Albus’s warm body. “I don’t know. Sightsee? Pretend to be Muggles? Get a posh hotel room?”

Scorpius had felt Albus smiling against his back. “You’re a genius, Scorp.”

*

“What you say in the course of the phone call may be listened to and may be given in evidence.”

Scorpius looks at Albus.

Albus shrugs. “Okay.”

“Understood,” Scorpius says.

“Which of you wants to make the call?” the officer asks.

“I’ll do it,” Albus says.

“May I come, too?” Scorpius asks. “Since he’s calling for both of us. I need to, er, make sure that he’s actually doing it.”

“For the love of god,” the officer sighs. “Fine. Hands behind your backs.” He shackles them with handcuffs and leads them out of the cell and down the corridor.

When they reach the phone, the officer asks them the number, and Albus recites the emergency phone-Floo number that all wizarding children are taught for the contingency that they get lost in the Muggle world. The irony that they’re using it now, as adults, though they’d never needed to as children is not lost on Scorpius.

The officer dials the number and holds the phone to Albus’s ear. Scorpius runs his finger along the cool metal of the handcuff and listens nervously.

“Hello, I need to speak with Ronald Weasley at the Den.” There’s a pause, then, “Hi Uncle Ron, it’s Albus. Yes—yes—I’m. Hold on. Scorpius and I have been arrested by _police officers._ Yeah—yes. _Yes._ Can you get a qui—pen and write down the address where we are? Uncle Ron—we don’t have our,” he shoots a desperate glance at Scorpius, “our wood sticks. _Yes._ Exactly. Okay. Can you just get...one of dad’s coworkers, one who works with people who, er, you know, need to have bad memory. Yes! Get them, swear them to secrecy, and get over here? Okay. Yes. We’re at the Wood Street Police Station. Yes. I don’t care what you tell Aunt Hermione. Okay. One more thing. Please bring us some clothes.”

Scorpius can suddenly hear Ron, who seems to be angrily inquiring whether the Muggle Aurors took their clothes.

“No—no! No! They didn’t take our clothes. We didn’t have clothes.”

There’s a long pause.

“Yeah. Um. Thank you. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Bye.”

The officer hangs up the phone and gives them a look that makes Scorpius think he’s worried about having to fill out more paperwork classifying them as persons who are mentally vulnerable or something. He doesn’t speak, though, just sighs and leads them back to the holding cell, where he removes their shackles and closes them inside.

When the door closes, Scorpius grins. “We don’t have our wood sticks. Whatever will we do?”

“Oi!” Albus says, pushing Scorpius’s shoulder. “The fuck was I supposed to say?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Scorpius says thoughtfully. “Anything else would really sound like a penis euphemism, wouldn’t it?”

“Scorp. I’m pretty sure ‘wood sticks’ did, too.”

*

Earlier that day—though it seems considerably longer ago—they’d packed up their Hogwarts trunks for the last time.

“Weird, isn’t it?” Albus had asked, sitting on the bed and looking around the room.

“Yeah,” Scorpius had whispered, sitting next to him. “I mean, it feels normal to be leaving at the end of the term. The strange part is that we’ll never come back.”

Albus threaded their fingers together. “Yeah. I’m tired of being treated like kids, though. No one takes us seriously.”

Scorpius felt his chest expand with love and hope and future. “It’ll be better to have our own flat. We can choose how to decorate.”

“We don’t know how to decorate,” Albus said, laughing.

Scorpius raised his left hand and waved it around. “Whatever. Like, a Gustav Klimt print. Or that art of a big wave.”

Albus leaned toward him, smiling. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Scorpius said, thinking he’d never be quite over that intense, lusty look on Albus’s face.

“Yeah,” Albus said, and pulled Scorpius on top of him for a snog. Mmmmm, leaving Hogwarts was going to be good.

*

“We are _in the slammer,_ ” Scorpius declares, walking around their small holding cell.

Albus sits on the bed, his chin propped on his hands, watching his boyfriend.

“We are _perps_ in the can.”

“Scorp,” Albus says through a sigh, “where did you learn this slang? I have a feeling it’s not street-accurate.”

“We are on The Rock. We are dangerous Azkies.”

“Scorp,” Albus pleads.

“What?” Scorpius asks, shoving his hands in the pockets of his prison-issued jumpsuit.

“Come sit down. You’re getting all,” Albus waves his hand in the air, “nervous bubbly run-on.”

Scorpius walks to Albus and sits next to him. “Are we crap adults?”

“What do you mean?” Albus asks, leaning back against the wall.

“What do I mean?” Scorpius echoes, his voice getting higher. “Al, we’ve been out of school and on our own for like, five hours and look at us.”

“It was a freak accident,” Albus says, running a hand through his hair. “We’re going to be fine.”

“What if my dad doesn’t let us go on our gap year?”

Albus reaches over and squeezes Scorpius’s leg. “We’re eighteen. He can’t stop us. If he tries, I’ll send my dad to the Manor with the Aurors. Dad would fucking love that.”

Scorpius laughs, and Albus has succeeded at calming him down. “Would it be inappropriate to snog in a holding cell?”

*

The Hogwarts Express had hissed and then _thunked_ to a stop at King’s Cross station, and Scorpius and Albus had stepped off together. It had taken no time at all to find their families: many ginger heads, an awed crowd conspicuously trying not to stare, and a tall, posh blond man standing on the outskirts looking pained by the company.

Scorpius grabbed Albus’s hand. “We’re going to be strong. We’re grown wizards. Fully qualified, grown wizards.”

“We’re grown wizards,” Albus echoed. “We’re going to go up to them, hug them, make our apologies, and get the fuck out of here.”

“Right,” Scorpius confirmed. “Get the fuck out.”

Then, the horde had descended.

“Albus!” Harry and Ginny called. Draco strode forward to clap them on the shoulder just as Harry and Ginny attempted to wrap them in an embrace. It was a sea of limbs and bumping elbows and “We’re so proud of you!” “All grown up now, eh, son?” and “Oh, we’ve missed you so much!” Aunts and uncles buzzed around the perimeter, and cousins called greetings and whispered profanities.

Scorpius held tight to Albus’s hand, refusing to be swept away in the family chaos. _Focus._ The plan was to get the fuck out of there. He squeezed Albus’s hand.

Draco had managed to sling his arm around Scorpius’s shoulder, already asking about N.E.W.T.s, while Harry and Ginny were trying to smooth Albus’s hair and t-shirt.

“Listen, Mum, Dad,” Albus said, and Scorpius watched, wondering what his strategy would be. “Scorpius and I need to catch our Portkey. So…”

“So,” Scorpius continued, “we need to be heading off. Wouldn’t want to miss our Portkey.”

Scorpius had felt the tiniest bit guilty as he watched all of the parents’ faces drop. But not really. Because he didn’t want to be overwhelmed with small talk and questions about his “plans” and the nostalgic faces of people who still thought of him as a ten-year-old.

“Oh,” Albus’s dad said morosely. “Right now? We thought you’d have a tiny bit of—”

“Of course, I understand,” Draco cut in. “I would never dream of causing you to miss your Portkey. You’ll write, of course.”

Scorpius just _barely_ refrained from rolling his eyes at the dads’ one-upmanship. “Yes, Dad, of course.”

“And you’ll Floo?” Albus’s mom asked, her hand on Albus’s shoulder.

“Sure,” Albus said, and Scorpius wondered whether anyone was fooled by that response.

“Alright,” Albus’s dad said, “you both take care. Take care of each other.”

“We always do, Mr Potter!” Scorpius said.

“Do you have enough money?” Draco and Harry asked at the same time.

Scorpius and Albus looked at each other. “Yes.”

And in a chorus of “Okay” and “Stay in touch” and “Travel safe” and “Don’t go anywhere without your wand” and “Take care” and a whispered “Don’t neglect your prophylactic spells” (Scorpius didn’t even want to know who’d said _that_ ), they were wrapped in a warm embrace of love and family and home that neither of them quite wanted at the moment.

Albus and Scorpius said, “Goodbye!” as cheerfully as they could muster, and walked resolutely away from their safe, loving families.

“That was intense,” Scorpius said, still holding tight to Albus’s strong hand.

“Merlin,” Albus responded. “Can we rebel now? Do you want to get tattoos or a soul bond?”

*

Scorpius pulls away from Albus’s lips and smiles. “You’re so good-looking.”

Albus bursts into laughter. “I’m so good-looking?”

Scorpius grins wider. “You really, really are.” Albus’s hair is rumpled, and it forms a swoop of curly black hair that falls down over his left eye, and he has dark-brown mahogany eyes, and his lips look like petals.

Albus reaches behind Scorpius’s neck and pulls him closer. “You are too. And you’re also ridiculous.”

“No way,” Scorpius says, kissing Albus’s nose. “Not even a little bit. I’ve never been ridiculous once in my entire life.”

Albus pulls Scorpius next to him, wrapping his arm around Scorpius’s shoulders. “I can’t believe you said we’re married.”

“I can’t believe you called me ‘my husband’ to the police officer.”

Albus laughs, his head tilted back against the wall. “I just hope that our police officer friend doesn’t tell Uncle Ron that we said we’re married. Can you imagine what our parents would say if they thought we secretly got married?”

Scorpius smiles and cuddles closer. “Secretly married sounds fun. Do you think if we concentrated our magical energy together we could bust out of this joint?”

Albus turns his head. “No. Scorp. No. I don’t think we can bust out of the joint with wandless magic. We’ve never even practiced wandless magic before.”

“But Al—we are very powerful. You know that. Other people overlook us, but we are like, fucking intense. I bet we could do it.”

“Well,” Albus says with a sigh, “we’ve got nothing but time. What do you want to try to do?”

Scorpius looks around the holding cell. “We should start with something smaller than busting open the door.”

“Maybe we can try a wandless _Nox_ and shut off the light,” Albus says, looking at the bare bulb in the ceiling.

“Oooooh, good idea,” Scorpius says. “ _Nox_ is a fairly easy spell. Have you ever read about combining magical forces?”

Albus gives him a look. “You know I haven’t.”

“Okay, so, we don’t have any conduits for our magic—wands—so we should try to concentrate it through our hands, and if we hold them together, it should help.” Scorpius turns on the narrow bed, tucking up his right leg and facing towards Albus.

Albus follows, tucking his left leg and holding his hands up to mimic Scorpius’s.

Scorpius presses his palms against Albus’s, and immediately feels a crackle of magic. Or maybe it’s just lust. Or love. Who knows. He smiles and whispers, “You feel good.”

Albus looks like he’s trying to stay serious, but he still looks pleased. “You always feel good.”

Scorpius clears his throat, trying to avoid getting distracted by Albus’s wiles. “Okay, so. We try to visualise our magical cores. My dad always said it’s like...you close off all the external sensory input and imagine what’s coming from inside. Like an energy or a force.”

Albus wiggles his fingers against Scorpius, closes his eyes, and presses his knee against Scorpius’s. “Okay,” he whispers.

“And then we imagine that energy as if it’s collecting in our torso,” Scorpius says, and his belly is tingling with heat and magic and his hands are pressed against Albus’s, which makes it feel so much more real.

“Mmmm,” Albus responds.

“And then we take all that pent up magic and imagine it coming down through our arms and to our hands, and because we’re together, we imagine that we’re sending it to join with each other’s magic as we incant the spell non-verbally. Okay?”

“Okay,” Albus whispers, and Scorpius’s chest constricts with how much trust Albus is placing in him.

“Okay,” Scorpius whispers, “On the count of three. One. Two. Three. Go.”

Scorpius visualises his magic gathering and then shooting down his arms, searching for Albus’s magic. He doesn’t expect it to work; it’s their first attempt, after all, and most adults can’t manage this type of wandless spell. He thinks _Nox_ with all his magical intention, and his arms tingle with the gathering magic.

Albus gasps, and then Scorpius feels a shock of heat on his palms. His eyes shoot open just in time to see two jets of purple light shoot from their joined hands towards the ceiling, extinguishing the light.

“ _Wicked,_ ” Albus whispers, then looks back at Scorpius and entwines their fingers together. “You were amazing!”

Scorpius’s whole body is tingling. “Is your whole body tingling?”

Albus laughs with a nervous energy. “Um, yes. Is yours?”

“Yeeeees,” Scorpius answers honestly. “Including my cock.”

Albus bursts into full laughter and pushes forward to knock Scorpius back onto the tiny bed. “Oh really?” he says, pressing his body into Scorpius’s so Scorpius can feel his reciprocal arousal.

“Mmmmmm,” Scorpius smiles, tilting his head to the side. “That was incredible. What are the chances we can get the light back on?”

“Slim to none,” Albus says, pressing his hips forward, and Scorpius forgets about the light.

*

“Where should we go first?” Albus had asked after they left King’s Cross. “We need to Apparate somewhere.”

“The London Eye! The aquarium?” Scorpius had suggested.

“The Eye,” Albus said. “Perfect. I’ll Side-Along you?”

Scorpius looked around and spotted a shady, deserted alley. “Over there.”

“It’s nice to be able to Apparate,” Albus said, walking into the alley. “We worked so hard to learn and then we had to spend all our time in a castle that doesn’t allow it.”

“I know,” Scorpius said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Remember when my dad taught us when we were fifteen and your dad flipped when he found out?”

Albus laughed. “And then he taught us to cast Patronuses because he couldn’t let your dad show him up?”

“Yeah,” Scorpius said with a smile. “I like it when you Side-Along me. It’s sexy.”

Albus raised his eyebrows. “It’s sexy? How can Side-Along be sexy? It’s like, a parent thing.”

“Nuh huh,” Scorpius said, stepping into Albus’s space, the toes of their trainers just touching. “Because it’s you touching me. Go ahead.”

“Merlin, Scorp,” Albus said, taking a breath. “Don’t distract me like that or I’ll Splinch us.”

“Distract you like what?” Scorpius asked with faux innocence, pressing his chest into Albus’s and wrapping his arm behind Albus’s back. “I trust you not to Splinch us.”

Albus huffed a laugh. “You always put too much faith in me.”

“Hey,” Scorpius said, “that’s not true. You’re amazing. I put just the right amount of faith in you.”

Albus closed his eyes, gripped Scorpius’s bicep, and turned. Scorpius took a breath to steel himself against the pressure of Apparition, and they landed, Scorpius wobbling into Albus’s chest. They were in a grassy area next to the enormous ferris wheel.

“See,” Scorpius said. “Not Splinched.”

Albus smiled and pressed a kiss to Scorpius’s lips. “Do you have our Muggle money?”

“Yeah. How do you think we get up there? There must be a queue.”

Albus shrugged. “We’ll find it.”

They turned to walk towards the Eye, but Scorpius stopped, pointing at the ground. “Al, look.”

“Is that a—”

“A condom. A used. Condom. What is that doing here?!”

“Well,” Albus replied. “I’d suspect that it was left behind after someone had sex. In public.”

Scorpius turned to look at Albus. “Here?! Someone had sex here?! We can’t leave it! What if a child finds it! Or a bird. It could probably kill a bird.”

And then it all happened very quickly. Albus and Scorpius both pulled their wands (discreetly, of course, not wanting to break the Statute), and whispered _“Evanesco,”_ but just as they began the incantation, a cyclist flew past, causing them to lose their balance and their spells to miss their mark.

It was a perfect storm. A one in a million shot. And yet, there they were, completely naked in broad daylight, with people all around, and a used condom on the ground next to them.

“Holy shit,” Albus whispered. “UnVanish them!”

“You can’t unVanish!” Scorpius squeaked. “Didn’t you just take a Charms N.E.W.T.? Conjure. Conjure clothes. Quick. Ahhh!”

A police officer blew a whistle, and Scorpius could feel his body starting to panic. His ears were ringing, his heart was racing. There was a chubby police officer running at them.

Scorpius realised suddenly how bad this looked, the two of them standing there naked next to a used condom. And they’re holding _wands._ Nowhere to hide their wands! They were going to be arrested for breaking the Statute! That had to be worse than people assuming they were having public sex. I mean, everyone knew they had sex, anyway. Well, not this particular police officer, but everyone who knew them.

So he grabbed Albus’s wand out of his hand and threw both wands into a bush.

“Scorp!” Albus hissed. “We could’ve just Disapparated!”

Oh shit. They could’ve just Disapparated. But it was too late, because the police officer was upon them.

*

Scorpius turns his head to the side, completely overcome with sensation as Albus’s mouth envelops his cock. They probably shouldn’t be doing this here. But it’s not like it’s the first time anyone has had sex in the slammer. His body is still all tingly from the wandless magic and Albus has a magic mouth, anyway. Merlin, even Scorpius’s mouth is tingling. Everything is tingling.

“Al, _Merlin,_ Al,” he whispers, and Albus seems to take that as a motivating compliment because he starts to bob his head with more vigour, using his tongue to lick over the head on the upstroke before sinking back down again. “Al, _fuck._ ”

Albus hums in an agreeing sort of way, and Scorpius can’t think straight with those vibrations traveling from Albus’s throat straight to his cock. “Ah!” Scorpius says unthinkingly, “Your voice is so deep.”

Albus laughs, but doesn’t pull away.

Scorpius tries to concentrate on keeping his hips still, and the muscles in his legs and torso tense without his even thinking about it because Albus is making pleasure swirl through his body and the tension is building. He almost says, “I’m close,” but then he remembers how last time, after he’d finished, Albus had said, “You don’t have to warn me, you know. I’m going to swallow every time,” so he says nothing and just lets his head swim with love for Albus and pleasure and heat and hot wet tongue mouth and then he’s coming, Albus is squeezing his hip, and pleasure pulses through him.

“Wow.”

And then, while Albus’s mouth is still sealed around his cock, there’s a creak and a triangle of light spills into the dark holding cell. Oh, _shit._ Oh, fuck.

Scorpius feels Albus swallow, pull off, and plaster himself over Scorpius’s body, his head coming down to rest on Scorpius’s chest. “Fuck,” Albus whispers.

“Outrage against public decency,” a posh voice drawls. And oh, Merlin, Scorpius is going to die of embarrassment right now. Draco continues, “Behaviour that is likely to cause harassment, alarm, or distress to others contrary to the Public Order Act of 1986.”

“You had _sex_ in _public_!” Albus’s dad’s voice hisses, getting straight to the point.

Scorpius closes his eyes, feels Albus reach between them to cover up Scorpius’s now (and, possibly after this, for all time) flaccid penis. When Albus finishes making Scorpius presentable, he sits up, grabs Scorpius’s hand, and pulls him up too.

Their friend the police officer, Draco, Albus’s parents, and a uniformed Auror are standing in the door to the cell. The police officer looks like he’s been Confunded, and the Auror waves her wand to turn on the light.

Scorpius blinks.

“So do you want to stay another night?” Albus’s dad deadpans. “We can come back and rescue you tomorrow?"

Albus groans, covering his face with his hand.

“So public sex in Muggle London isn’t enough jollies for one day,” Albus’s mum says. “You needed to have another round? In gaol?”

“We weren’t, er, actually having sex in Muggle London,” Albus says lamely.

“Sweet Merlin,” Harry sighs, rubbing his hand over his face.

“Yes, wonderful,” Draco scoffs. “Now go ahead and tell us how you weren’t having sex just now, either.”

Scorpius and Albus turn to look at each other. They say nothing as they turn back to their parents.

“I thought Uncle Ron was coming,” Albus says, and Scorpius thinks that probably isn’t the best thing to say right now.

“You thought Uncle Ron was coming?” Harry echoes in disbelief.

“Imagine this scenario,” Ginny says, stepping farther into the cell. “We’re sitting in the kitchen having tea with Draco because our sons abandoned us and wouldn’t even come home for one little dinner to tell us about the end of school. The Floo roars. Ron appears, in hysterics, telling us that he received an emergency Muggle phone call through his Floo from Albus. He has no idea what’s going on, but knows that Albus and Scorpius are arrested and that the Muggle police have stripped them naked. He gives us the address, your father immediately calls work to get an Auror on duty, and we rush over here as soon as we can. When we get here, the police officer tells us that you were picked up for having sex in public, charged with outrage against public decency and behaviour that is likely to cause harassment, alarm, or distress to others. And then we get in here, and you’re,” she stops, apparently unsure how crass she is meant to be when describing her son performing fellatio.

“Mrs Potter,” Scorpius says, trying with all he has to be brave for Albus, “we didn’t have sex in public. We just accidentally Vanished our clothes. And then I panicked and hid our wands because I didn’t want to break the Statute.”

The three parents stare at them.

At this point, the Auror claps her hands. “Alright, take these boys home. Harry, I’m happy to leave this off the official reports. I’ll just deal with this officer here. Get them out of here.”

Albus and Scorpius stand, holding tight to each other’s hands.

“Alright, Scorpius, come along,” Draco says.

Ginny makes a summoning gesture to Albus, and Scorpius feels Albus stiffen next to him.

“No,” Albus says, and it comes out forcefully.

The parents raise six unbelieving eyebrows, and even the Auror looks shocked.

“No. We’re adults. Thank you for coming to get us out of here. But we’re not coming home.”

“Right!” Scorpius says, spurred on by Albus’s audacity. “We have plans.”

“So we’ll just be going,” Albus says, still in his jumpsuit. He walks past the parents, pulling Scorpius behind him by the hand.

“We’ll owl,” Scorpius says, and follows Albus, squeezing his hand.

As they rush down the corridor, they hear Albus’s dad say, “They’re idiots. And also, I’m really jealous of them right now.”

Albus’s mum laughs. “You want a blow job in a holding cell, Harry? It’s not happening.”

“No!” he laughs. “The lack of responsibilities.”

“How long until we have to bail them out again?” Draco asks.

“There won’t be a next time,” Harry sighs. “They’ll realise they should’ve called James.”

Albus snorts, and they turn out of the corridor and push open the door to the outside.


End file.
